The Fog
by hearttorn
Summary: Sookie is a young woman whose life is suddenly shattered. Read to find out how she copes... this is a story in mini-chapters with more frequent updates. Rated M for infinite possibilities! K right now.
1. The Fog

_This will be a story of mini chapters. It's just how it came to me... but it means it will be updated often - sometimes several times a day, or several chapters at once. That's the plan, anyway. This came to me in a dream and I woke up sobbing, so be warned for angst. I'm not entirely certain where it will go, but I do loves me some HEA, so keep hope alive._

**Disclaimer: CH - the nicest lady on the planet - owns everything. I owe her so much!**

Fog. My brain was filled with fog. Swallowed up, wrapped in cotton wool, pillowed in foggy disbelief. How was it possible? How could he be gone? My strong, virile, seemingly indestructible husband and beautiful Bill was gone. A stupid, stupid, stupid drunk drive broadsided his car when he came home after working really late one night from his job as a computer programmer and he was killed instantly. And now I'm a widow at the age of 28. How do I survive the rest of my life? Without his dark eyes and cool voice saying my name? Oh, my God.


	2. The Couch

CH 2 The Couch

Old, velour couch. I got to know its pattern intimately. We had needed to replace this old thing for years but somehow I could never bear to let it go. My gran had given it to us when we were newlyweds and needed furniture desperately. Bill hated the afghan I kept on it with a passion, calling it hideous, but as Gran made it, I insisted we keep it as well, so that Gran would see it when she stopped by. Now, I was torn. Should I honor his wishes and replace the couch, or should I hang onto this tangible reminder of both Gran and Bill? The fog in my brain kept me laying on the couch for weeks after his death, wrapped in the afghan and sobbing, unable to decide, or even doing anything beyond basic human functions. Eat enough to survive when Sam shoved it under my nose, even though it tasted like cardboard, go to the bathroom, breathe - even though it hurt - and sleep. A lot of sleep. I couldn't bear to sleep in our big, creaky bed alone, so I slept on the couch. Alone.


	3. Tissue Issues

CH 3 Tissue Issues

Did you know that if you use enough tissues you can rub your nose raw? I should buy stock in Kleenex as many as I've used in the past month. They are starting to pile up in little lumpy balls. Tara and Sam have been kind enough to stop by and they have frequently dispersed of piles of tissues, gross as it is. God bless those two. Sam makes me eat, waking me during the day to do so, and Tara helps me to sleep at night on the couch. She sleeps on the floor beside me and holds my hand, knowing I won't even look at our giant, king-sized bed. How can I, knowing the last time I was in it was just before I got out of it to go answer the door to the knock that changed my life? A state trooper, coming to inform me my husband was dead. Oh, God. I need another tissue.


	4. Tiny Corners

Ch 4 Tiny Corners

I find myself wedging my body into the tiniest corners in the house, wanting to disappear. Huddled on the cold kitchen floor, knees pulled up to my chest, arms wrapped 'round my knees. Same thing in the bathroom. My favorite is the small carpeted spot under the stairs, where the stairs slope down to meet the floor. I curl into the fetal position and wait. Wait to fade away into cells, nothingness. Wait for Bill to come and claim me again. I can hear Tara and Sam discussing me in worried tones, hushed. "Four months," I hear. "Losing too much weight," they said. Me? I can't be the one losing too much weight. I'm the size 8 on a good day. I'll never be thin. I could wear Bill's jeans. Still, each time I think I could maybe eat something, it's too much trouble to get up. I'll just curl up tighter under the stairs and nap for a bit.


	5. Doorbells

Ch 5 Doorbells

The doorbell had rung more times in the last few months (I honestly couldn't tell you how long it had been, it was all kind of a blur) than I could count. Each time Tara or Sam, sometimes Holly or Arlene, my friends from my old job at Sam's bar and grill, where I met Bill, or even my brother Jason, had been there to answer it. This time it rang, and rang, and rang, and no one came. I had stopped keeping track of who was in the house and who wasn't - or more accurately, stopped caring. Curled up in my corner of the kitchen, I tried several times to make my underused voice call out for Tara or Sam. Finally, to shut the damn thing up, I just hollered, "come in!" I heard the door open tentatively, and I heard hesitant footsteps in the hall. Since I really didn't care who it was, I went back to counting the cracks in the kitchen tile. I was convinced I could get an accurate total at some point if I just stayed there long enough. I heard the footsteps come closer, and I looked up to see a pair of black lace up military-style boots and blue jeans. The I looked up, and up some more. My Southern manners, ingrained still, kicked in and I croaked, "May I help you?" The blond blur at the top said, "I'm looking for Bill."


	6. Ch 6 Losing It

Ch 6 Losing It

Beta'ed by the lovely Jamie!

I stared at him, blankly, then started to laugh. "Bill's not home," came my strangled voice. He looked at me oddly as I started to laugh, a strange, choking laugh. "Do you know when he might be back?" he asked cautiously, as my laughs turned to barking coughs. He clearly thought I was insane, and he was right. I had gone over the edge. My laughs turned to sobs as I choked out, still huddled in the corner, "Never. He's never coming back." "What?" was the startled reply. I gazed up and up at the blond blur, made even more blurry by my tears and finally said the words I had avoided for months. "Bill's dead. He's never coming back, ever. He's dead." Knees bent and hips folded inward as the long body before me came down to my level. Blue eyes stared at me compassionately, intensely. "Oh, sugarbabe. I'm so sorry."


	7. Ch 7 Verbal Vomit

Ch 7 Verbal Vomit

Beta'ed by the lovely Jamie!

And it all came out. Words, words, words, I spewed them forth. Four months worth of words I could never have said to anyone I knew, I said to a total stranger. Words that would've made my grandmother roll over in her grave, I shouted, ranted, screamed. He sat next to me on the kitchen floor and let me yell, let me scream myself hoarse–I think I even hit him a time or two. I raved at God, at the makers of alcohol for feeding weak humans their wares, at people who didn't know their own limitations. I railed and carried on, curses and vile words foaming from my mouth as I let forth a torrent from my gullet. And finally I collapsed, exhausted, on the kitchen floor again.


	8. Ch 8 Strength and Scents

CH 8 Strength and Scents

Strong arms lifted me, cradled me and carried me upstairs. I was so out of it, I didn't even stop him when, for the first time in four months, I was carried, bride like, over the threshold into the master bedroom of my home. I was dimly aware that nothing had changed. The sheets, the blankets, Bill's trinkets on his bedside table; all the same. Blond blue began to lay me down on the bed and I stirred, began to wail and kick and thrash in his arms. It all tumbled out, how I hadn't been in there since Bill 's death. But, I had to admit, I had missed Bill's smell, and smelling him in the sheets was a balm to my frazzled nerves. Puzzled, he stood holding me for a moment before coming up with a solution. He sat himself on the bed first, still carrying me, then lay himself down with me cradled in his arms. I grabbed a handful of sheet and, in strong arms and with Bill's scent in my head again at last, I slept.


	9. Ch 9 Rude Awakenings

Ch 9 Rude Awakenings

I awoke smelling an odd combination of Bill's scent and... lemon laundry detergent? Wait. Arms around me? Had all this been a nightmare? Was Bill alive? The arms stirred and I felt a body move behind me. I froze. The body stretched, yawned, relaxed. The arms tightened around me and tugged me in towards hips, hips sporting a very impressive erection. I reacted immediately when my brain caught up to my bottom. I bolted out of bed and grabbed the first thing to hand: a spare motherboard of Bill's that he had left lying on his bedside table - actually, not a bad weapon with all its sharp edges and points. "Who the FUCK are you?" I demanded of blond and blue, but now not so blurry, lying comfortably in my bed.


	10. Ch 10 SMoATiGaP

Ch 10 Sweet Motherboard of All That is Good and Pure

_The longest mini-chapter yet! And Sookie's coherent! Beta'ed by the lovely Jamie..._

"Whoa!" said blond blue blur as he held up his hands in the universal gesture of peace. "Relax, sugarbabe."

_Sugarbabe?_ I thought. _Who_ is _this guy? _So I asked.

"My name is Eric Northman. I work - well, I'm sorry to say I _used_ to work - with your husband. I didn't know what had happened. I'm so, so sorry, Sookie. Well, you must be Sookie. He described you to a tee - used to talk about you all the time. Ummm, I guess I should go back a bit. I'm the district manager for the tri-state area. I cover Mississippi, Louisiana and Arkansas. I mostly work out of New Orleans, but my office is kind of my car. I talked with Bill every so often, but he was such a reliable worker I didn't need to check on him much. I pretty much left him to his own supervision. When he didn't complete a project he was assigned and I hadn't heard from him, I decided to swing through Shreveport and check on him. No one was at his office space and it looked deserted so I came here."

Oh. Bill's office. I guess no one - or rather I - didn't think to close it up, call the home office and let them know he was gone. Come to think of it, I hadn't done anything with his life insurance or anything like that, either. I knew Bill had left me well taken care of, but I just hadn't been in a state to cope. This Eric person was clearly waiting for a response. "I ... I just ... well, the way you found me yesterday was the way I've been since he passed. I've just been ... existing."

Eric nodded and said, "Now that you know who I am, can you put the motherboard down? I promise not to hurt you," he said with a grin.

I looked down at my hand, still holding out the computer piece at my side. "Oh," I said, abashed, and set it back on Bill's nightstand.

"No problem, I understand. You woke up to a strange man in your bed, you freaked out. Totally understandable. I was just trying to give you some comfort." Eric finally climbed out of the bed, and now that my eyes weren't blurry, Holy Motherboard of All That Is Good and Pure! God, Bill and Gran forgive me, but the man was a God!


	11. Ch 11 Filet Mignon

Ch 11 Filet Mignon

I'm ashamed to say I ogled him mercilessly. Four months in a grief-filled haze, seeing only Sam (and no offense to Sam, he's a fine specimen of man, but he's in the friend zone) in the male category, and suddenly I was presented with this glorious male. Even had I not been so male-sheltered, he would still have been gorgeous. Tall, oh-so-tall, with broad shoulders and a trim waist, thick blond hair that just brushed his collar, deep blue eyes, an aquiline nose, and full lips. I was beginning to think there was a reason Bill had never mentioned his boss much - given my much ballyhooed thing for blonds. Bill had always teased me that if I ever left him, it would be for a blond. I even had an "out" - the celebrity that, if they showed up in real life, you could leave your spouse for with no recriminations. Ralph Fiennes, who in his younger days was much more blond, but was darkening as he got older, like a lot of natural blonds did. Bill had an "out" too - Beyonce. We laughed over our "outs" all the time. But this Eric Northman was making me rethink poor Ralph. For one thing, he was taller. For another, he was here. And I hadn't had sex in months. I was starving and he was filet mignon.


	12. Damn Lack of Fairy Godmothers

Ch 12 Damn lack of Fairy Godmothers!

Ok, so let's consider this: I hadn't looked in a mirror in four months, much less combed my hair (although I think maybe Tara had attempted it a time or two). I was probably in desperate need of a shower. Actually, no 'probably' about it - I _was_ in desperate need of a shower. And maybe a toothbrush. My eyes were most likely red and puffy - my nose, too. I probably seemed crazy (again, no 'probably' about it). And, horror of horrors, I had just spent the night like this in a sex god's arms. How to go from zero to sixty in five point two? Or, in girl terms, from nottie to hottie, lightning fast? I needed a fairy godmother to put him in a stasis spell so I could have a makeover, but alas none was sprinkling pixie dust anywhere I could see. And, I was still staring. Think, Sookie, think!


	13. Ch 13 Crash and Burn

CH 13 Crash and Burn

I forced myself to stop staring and thought fast. "Umm, could you excuse me for a second?"

"Sure," Eric replied with a chuckle. I shot around him-and around the bed-to dart into the en suite bathroom. I quickly started yanking a brush through my knotted hair and shoved my toothbrush into my mouth. Suddenly, though, I caught sight of myself in the mirror. Baggy clothes, birds' nest hair with a brush tangled into it, toothpaste foaming at the mouth, and it hit me. I was a widow-a widow of not even six months- and here I was, trying to fix myself up to try and seduce this gorgeous man? What planet was I living on? Not only would Gran be ashamed of me, Bill would be horrified.

A tear slowly started rolling down my cheek, followed quickly by more of his kin. I crumpled to the floor in a heap and began sobbing my heart out. I heard the door creak open hesitantly, then in a flash I was wrapped back up in strong arms and being rocked in a hard embrace. Large hands soothed me, stroked my messy hair, and one gently removed the toothbrush from my mouth. I swallowed the toothpaste I had in my mouth (surely the FDA allotted for at least the _occasional_ swallowing in that 'do not swallow' rule) and choked out, "Why are you being so nice to me?"

A rough laugh escaped the chest I was being rocked against. "Because, sugarbabe, I've been right where you are."

_A/N: So, a lot of you guys really wanted Sookie to just come back to her senses and be magically over Bill, but we all know things don't work like that! In this story, remember, he hasn't run off with a vampire ho maker, cheated, or neglected her - he's been a good husband and they had a good marriage. So, it might take some time for her to process. But hang in there - Eric has a lot to say!_


	14. Ch 14 Shared Pasts

A/N: 40 minutes to True Blood. I just cut the hell out of my foot giving myself a spa pedicure, so since I'm stuck here with my foot in the air, here's the next chappie. My cats are looking at me, grumpy, for wiggling around on the bed to get comfy and any mistakes are mine since I'm too impatient to send this off to my fawesome beta Jamie aka sunshinelvr. Roll on 8:00! - HT

Ch 14 Shared Pasts

I let out a choking gasp. "Your wife? You lost your wife?"

"My long term girlfriend, Ava," he replied. His eyes got guarded. "A lot of people think that just because we weren't married, it doesn't count or it wasn't as serious. But it was to me. It counts to me. I grieved her the same as I would've a wife. I loved her the same. It was the same to me. I didn't want another. And when I lost her..."

"It felt like the world stopped and you couldn't breathe any more?" I supplied.

"Yes," he answered. "So I know where you're at, Sookie. Sookie, I... this is a weird thing to say, sitting on a bathroom floor, but I'm just going to say it."

"What?"

"I didn't have anyone there for me when Ava died, and... she almost took me with her. When I saw you sitting on the kitchen floor, I saw that same look in your eyes. I'd... I'd like to help you, if you'll let me."

I opened my mouth to answer, but was startled by the sound of the door opening downstairs. I heard boots coming in and Sam's voice calling my name.

"In here, Sam," I called.

"Well, you sure sound better," he called cheerfully from the hall. "Not that I'm complainin', but what's got you turnin' the corner, cher?" He came into the bedroom. "Sook?" He swung around the bathroom door and came into sight of me, cradled into Eric's arms on the floor, a rumpled mess with a brush still in my hair. "Just who in the hell is _this_ and what the _hell_ is going on?"

A/N 2: About "sugarbabe" - it's just a Southern nickname that popped into my head when I needed something other than "lover" because, let's face it, "lover" is sooo not appropriate at this point in the story! Until you guys mentioned it, I never even thought of the Quinn connection! Also, at this point, Eric's only been there overnight - even though it seems longer since it's been a few chapters. So Tara and Sam haven't abandoned Sookie for long. But shame on Tara (and me, really) for letting Sook go a night without her holding her hand to sleep! But if she showed up, Sook wouldn'tve gotten a night in Eric's arms and we all know that's better. :)


	15. Like Watching Wimbledon

CH 15 Like Watching Wimbledon

I scrambled out of Eric's lap onto my feet. "Sam, this is Eric Northman. He's - he _was _Bill's boss. He came by yesterday to check on Bill since he hadn't heard from him in and while - we forgot to notify his _work_, Sam - and he found me, well, you know how I've been. He-" I stopped because Eric's story about Ava wasn't mine to tell. "He was very kind to me. He helped me get through last night, and he's offered to help me out all he can..." I faltered and looked at Eric.

"Yes, with insurance and paperwork and whatnot, I can help get these things expedited, I think," he said. "Know the proper channels..." He, too, trailed off.

Sam looked back and forth between us like he was watching a tennis match. He knew he was missing something, Sam was pretty sharp, he just didn't know what just yet. His shrewed eyes took in both our rumpled clothes, still on, but slightly guilty expressions. He clearly decided to reserve judgement and err on the side of caution, however, when he stuck his hand out and offered it to Eric.

"Sam Merlotte, one of Sookie's oldest friends. Thanks for looking out for her last night. Tara had something come up, Sook, sorry she couldn't make it."

"No problem, Sam, I clearly survived one night," I smiled and Sam looked at me, taken aback at an actual smile. He shot another look at Eric.

"Right. Well, why don't we all go downstairs and I'll make some coffee and we can talk more about what needs to be done, paperwork-wise?" This little menage-a-trois act was making everyone uncomfortable but I wondered, when did Sam become the host in my own home?

A/N Sorry for the delay, guys, RL sucked my muse. I'll try to be better!


	16. Ch 16 It Should Come with a Warning

Ch 16 It Should Come With a Warning: HOT

As I left the bathroom, I caught sight in the mirror of something swinging from my hair. Ah, my brush, still lodged in my nest. I grabbed it and worked it through as best I could, then worked my mane up into a ponytail. I gestured to Eric to follow Sam downstairs, giving him the "1 second" sign so many men have been given by countless women.

Once he was safely out of the room, I flew around like a madwoman, frantically looking for something nicer to wear than sweats and a t-shirt. I knew I couldn't go too dressy though, or Sam would call my shit out. I finally settled on jeans and a soft yellow fitted t-shirt, which didn't sound like much but actually was a nice change from the giant, baggy things I'd been living in. I slipped on silver sandals and padded downstairs, not bothering with makeup - I knew it wouldn't do much good, as little sleep as I'd had recently, and I couldn't do _too_ much of an about face too quickly. I did give my face a good wash, though, and put some drops in my eyes to help the redness.

When I made my way downstairs, Sam and Eric were sitting at my kitchen table, making idle chitchat and waiting on the coffee maker, cups already out. God bless Sam and his well meaning heart. Bill's seat at the table was, as usual, left empty by some unspoken code. The coffee finished just as I got to the room and Sam started to get up but I stopped him, serving it myself. It had been such a long time since I had done such a simple thing as serve coffee to a guest. I started to think back, and it hit me.

The last cup of coffee I poured was for Bill.

My hand shook and my thumb gave out. The pot trembled, seemed to hover a moment, then began its plummet. I met Eric's eyes over my still-in-midair hand and saw him begin to move, saw Sam rush from the corner of my eye to shove me to the left, felt Eric catch me from Sam's shove.

The pot glanced off my little toe, breaking it, then hit the kitchen floor, shattering into a million pieces. A full pot of coffee hit my sandaled feet, and a million glass shards seemed to make their way like so many needles into my feet and ankles, under the hem of my jeans. Strong arms swept me up, and I blacked out, a merciful respite from the pain.


	17. Chapter 17 OUCH

Ch 17 Ouch

168 stitches and second degree burns.

I came to for a moment in Sam's truck on the way to the hospital in Monroe, still cradled in Eric's arms, my feet wrapped in kitchen towels and ice. I took one look at the bloody towels and promptly blacked out again. So I'm squeamish around blood, so sue me.

The next thing I knew I was in an ER cubicle getting sewn up salved. Let me tell you, having burned skin stitched is NOT fun. Sam was in there with me, holding my hand. Even when you're all doped up, you feel it.

"You 'wake, cher?"

"Mostly."

"What happened, hon? You were fine and then you just seemed to blank out, and then you dropped the coffee pot like it was made of kryptonite or something."

"I remembered... something," I whispered. "Where's Eric?"

"Outside in the waiting area. What did you remember, Sook?"

"Would you get him, please?" I begged, unshed tears sparkling on my lashes.

Sam gave me a long look, then sighed and stood to get him. A moment later Eric bobbed his head around the curtain.

"Sam said you asked for me? I'm honored, since you can only have one person back here at a time, " he grinned.

"Eric," I choked. His face instantly fell.

"What is it?"

"I remembered that... that the last cup of coffee I poured was for Bill," I managed to choke out, the tears finally spilling over.

He didn't say anything, he just sat in the chair Sam vacated and held my hands. The intern at my feet practiced his sutures, surreptitiously looking back and forth between us as I cried in silence.

Somehow, it was exactly what I needed.


	18. Chapter 18 Blindsided

CH 18 Blindsided

"You know that shit is hot, right?"

"Har har," I replied as Tara brought me a cup of coffee the next day. Needless to say, I held it very carefully, mindful not to spill a drop.

"Care to fill me in on Tall, Blond and Mysterious?" she asked as she settled on the love seat across from me. I was in the armchair, my feet propped on pillows on the footstool with ice on them.

"He's Bill's old boss. He's helping me through a rough patch," I tried to shrug nonchalantly.

"Riiiiiggghht," she drawled. "Helping you through a rough patch, in your bedroom, holding you on the bathroom floor?"

"Tara, how many times have you picked me up off the floor lately?" I demanded.

"Sookie, I've known you since you were six," she retorted. "And don't change the subject. Sam was all a-twitter about it."

"SAM? As in Sam Merlotte?"

"Yeah, you know, Sam who is crazy secretly in love with you. That Sam."

I waved my hand, still careful with my coffee. "Sam is not crazy in love with me. And Sam does not get 'a-twitter.'"

"If you can't see that Sam's crazy about you, then you're just plain crazy," she replied. "Has a thing for you, has _had_ a thing for you, will likely have a thing for you forever. And does not take kindly to mysterious, blond strangers who show up out of nowhere, seeming to have spent the night with you, and that you go seeking comfort from when hurt. I'm just sayin'."

I huffed. "If Sam is so head over heels for me, then why hasn't he done anything before now? Not that he's doing anything now, mind you. Not that I even think you're right."

"He was getting up his courage when Bill walked into your life. And he's been here, patiently picking up the pieces, waiting for you to be in a place where you might actually _see_ him. So, as your friend, I'm asking you, before you get your head turned by pretty new faces, _open your eyes_." She took my cup from my now wobbling hands and stomped out of the room.

To say I was stunned was a bit of an understatement. Sam?


End file.
